Domestic Animals (Hazard and Somerset: Arrows in the Hand Book 3) by Gregory Ashe

Author:Gregory Ashe [Ashe, Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodgkin & Blount
Published: 2022-02-10T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FEBRUARY 10

MONDAY

9:03 PM

IN ONE OF THE emergency department’s treatment rooms, Hazard sat with his hands clasped between his knees, his eyes locked on the burnished chrome of the bed rail, and concentrated on his breathing. Next to him, his husband had fallen asleep in an improbable position; Somers was sprawled in one of the torturous hospital chairs, head hanging over the back, mouth open, snoring. Apparently it was endearing or adorable or some such bullshit, because the nurses kept coming to check on him and giggle and whisper to each other. One of them, in a saltire bracelet, had tried to come into the treatment room before her friend, with stifled laughter, had dragged her away. Fortunately, they hadn’t woken Colt.

The boy lay in the hospital bed, still wearing a mask that forced him to breathe pure oxygen as his body worked the carbon monoxide out of its system. His color was better. He’d flipped through every channel on the TV a dozen times, complaining about everything except an episode of Wicked Tuna that had, mercifully, ended five minutes later. He’d whined about being hungry until one of the nurses brought him a hamburger and fries, and then Somers had sulked until they’d brought him a burger and fries. And, of course, Hazard had been included in the second burger run, but Colt had ended up eating half of his burger on top of the one he’d already eaten, plus most of the fries, plus, for good measure, some of Somers’s fries before finally succumbing to exhaustion.

In other words, all signs pointed to a complete recovery.

Which was good. Very good. It was a very good thing. Because if something had happened to Colt—

Slow down, ease up, deep breaths. The butterfly shimmer of the fluorescent lights. The sun-streak of the chrome railing. Hands together. That was the most important part. Hazard was fairly sure if he stopped clutching his hands so tightly, he’d start breaking things.

It was strange, really, how tragedy—or, in this case, near-tragedy—cleared the mind. It had swept everything else out of Hazard’s thoughts. Now, he only knew two things: someone had tried to kill his son, and Hazard was going to find the fucker and kill them first.

The fact that it had been an attempted murder was indisputable. Colt had admitted—probably because he’d still been too sick and disoriented to think up a decent lie—to smoking pot with Clayton and Rowan. He had said the weed was strong and that he’d fallen asleep shortly after they’d killed the joint. The same was obviously true for the other boys. And then someone had gotten into the house and started a gas generator that was located in the Heltinger’s basement storage room. And if Hazard and Somers had been an hour later—

Hazard yanked savagely on the reins. Another deep breath. And another. And another. But his hands were shaking, even pressed together, and after a moment he gave up and wiped his eyes. There was a sound in his

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